Sunday, 14 June 2015

Phone for Worry.



I don't like phones. Yes I know they can be very useful especially mobile phones, the usage of which has probably overtaken that of landlines save in business. What I don't like is the prospect of what I will hear when, or if, I answer the incessant ring. Will it be bad news regarding one or other of the aged parents or will it be something regarding my working past?

If I am phoned I immediately think it is going to be bad news. I never want to lift the receiver or accept a phone call on my mobile phone. The later the call comes through the greater the somersault of the stomach. I expect that most individuals with elderly parents are circumspect of the late night call. Who is calling me? Do I know the number? Should I take the call? Will I take the call? Tears, sorrow, worry, fear. That is the future.

I am frightened not only when I hear the phone but of the prospect of the call. I don't expect that this fear will ever leave me. The possibility of maybe another thirty years of worry is not an appealing thought. People encourage living for the present and appreciating what you have, but with disaster just a phone call away I can't enjoy the present through the gloom of tomorrow.

With the 20/20 vision that age and experience brings I now wish that I had made very different decisions in 1975, 1981, and 2005. The initial fatal decision was made in 1975 . Oh that I had taken a different route then. Silly me.



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